


A Measly Manner of Existence

by tuesdaymidnight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Episode S3E04, Failwolf, Fix-It, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaymidnight/pseuds/tuesdaymidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is on another angsty moping spree. This time it's about Arthur Miller.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Measly Manner of Existence

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't like episode 3x04. At all. So I fixed it. With crack!fic. And Stanny.
> 
> Thank you to [sapphirescribe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirescribe) for egging on my insanity. Title comes from _Death of a Salesman_.

“Can I stay with you?” Isaac pouted. Even Scott was unable to resist his pout, and Isaac knew it.

“What happened?” Scott asked.

“Derek kicked me out. He was on some angry rampage about Roslyn and dog food and allegory.”

“Huh?”

“I think it has something to do with his dissertation.”

“Derek's writing a dissertation?”

“What? You didn't know? He's in grad school.”

Scott titled his head and wondered how he could have missed this. Derek never seemed particularly studious, but then, Scott didn't know what the man did all day because he clearly didn't work. But grad school?

“You're joking. I don't believe you. I'm calling Stiles.”

“Why would Stiles know?”

“Stiles knows everything. We just inconveniently tune him out all the time.”

Stiles didn't answer his phone the first time, so Scott called again and again. On the third time, Stiles finally picked up. He sounded out of breath.

“You'd better have gotten kidnapped by the druids because I'm about to start on round two of thoroughly-not-a-virgin-anymore sex with the hottest guy in school.”

“Boyd?”

“What? No! Boyd hates me. Danny. Danny Mahealani. I'm talking about Danny, who even Coach was checking out this afternoon, with his abs and his chest and his thick co--”

“I thought Danny hated you, too.” Scott cut Stiles off.

“Nah, turns out his defense mechanism is also sarcasm. He thought I was putting him on all the time when I hit on him.”

“I thought everyone knew you were bi.”

“Apparently some people are slower than oth--”

Stiles words were cut off by what sounded distinctly like an ass being slapped followed by Stiles very clearly saying, “Hey! You liked my mouth ten minutes ago.”

“Stiles!” Scott shouted into the phone. “Stiles!”

The next thing he heard was his best friend moaning in a way reminiscent of the way he moaned when eating a triple chocolate prozac cupcake from the bakery on 3rd Street.

Scott hung up.

Wait, druids?

* * * TERRIBLE SEGUE * * *

Meanwhile, back at the loft...

“That was way harsh, Derek,” Cora said, glaring down at Derek with her hands on her hips.

“I told her that _The Crucible_ was an allegory for McCarthyism. I made an ass of myself.”

“You told who what? What's going on? I thought that was about Deucalion.”

“Huh? Oh no, that's ridiculous. I'm not going to kill any of my pack. I'd have to go to England and hunt down Jackson, and you know I don't do well on planes.”

“Oh yeah, the Disneyland incident.”

Derek glowered at his younger sister. “Deucalion just needs an exorcism. Happens all the time; I'll call Deaton tomorrow.”

“So, what is the source of this manpain then if it's not Deucalion?”

“I told an English teacher, the one from the other night, Jennifer, that she should tell her students that _The Crucible_ was an allegory for McCarthyism.”

“That's right though, isn't it?”

“Yeah, but it's literally the only thing anyone remembers from their high school English class. You've been living in the woods for eight years and you know _The Crucible_ is an allegory for McCarthyism.”

“So--”

“I'm writing my dissertation on Arthur Miller, Cora! I've devoted the last five years of my life to Arthur Miller! I could have said anything else, literally anything else, and I wouldn't have looked like loser. I've ruined my chances to get laid!”

“Wait. You're writing a dissertation?”

Derek huffed. “I'm in grad school. Why do you think I'm so pissed off and depressed all the time?”

 _Fin_.


End file.
